A Mangled Reminder
by Jananae
Summary: After the dust has settled in Salim's camp, Tony finds something precious. Set during "Truth or Consequences", in canon. Oneshot. My first fanfic.


**A/N--This is set during _Truth and Consequences_ right at the moment when Gibbs shoots Salim. It can be seen as a TeamFic or maybe even a TivaFic, but I consider it mainly a TonyFic, as it follows his thoughts and feelings throughout. The first half follows what we know happened, the second half is a little something of my own. I tried to make this as cannon and correct as possible, so please read and enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters. They are the property of CBS.**

He saw it before he heard it. Salim's head reeled back as the bullet entered and shattered his skull. An instant later, Tony heard the resounding sound of Gibbs' shot ring across the landscape between them. Relief and adrenaline coursed through him as his eyes left Salim's body on the floor to the woman bound, sitting across from him.

She was stunned, her eyes transfixed on the broken window. His partner/not-partner's face held an expression that he never thought he'd ever see her carry. And at seeing this, he too was stunned. This sight did not belong. She, the one who always had a look of confidence, of knowledge and silent power forever painted onto her features and in her every movement. This current look of bewilderment and utter surprise did not suit her. It did not fit.

His mind was suddenly brought back to the current situation as he saw his other partner spring up behind Ziva. In the same moment, shots began to ring out all around them as helicopters flew overhead. McGee grabbed for Salim's dropped and forgotten knife as he hurried to Tony's side. He quickly cut away his own bonds and made a move for Tony's as well. As he lowered the blade, another armed man burst through the door.

"Look out!" Tony screamed as the man crossed the threshold, weapon at the ready. However, he barely had time to finish his warning before he experienced an overwhelming sense of deja'vu: He saw the man fall, and then heard the telltale shot. As McGee began to cut away the ties at his wrists, Tony stole another glance at Ziva. It was as if she hadn't even noticed that a second man had entered the room and tried to finish them off. She was just staring at Salim's face on the floor as he too stared, though his was that of the unseeing dead.

As soon as his partner had him loose, Tony demanded the knife and hurried to Ziva's side as McGee looked out the window. As he cut away her bonds, McGee reported that a helicopter was landing on a distant hilltop. _That must be Gibbs' ride down here_, Tony thought absently. As he threw Ziva's ties to the floor, the screams of both bullets and men rained down around them. He was acutely aware of all of this, though she seemed not to notice in the slightest.

"Ziva? Ziva!" She instantly broke from her reverie at the sound of her name. "Can you stand?"

"Y-yes..." she stammered as she forced herself to focus, though he thought she still looked very much dazed. He shakily helped her out of her chair. She stood wobbly for a brief moment before collapsing to her knees. After months of being tied on the floor or bound to a chair, her atrophied legs could not support her own weight. For a split second, Tony actually saw a shadow of fear and uncertainty cross her face as she realized her body would not do what she wanted it to do.

"McGee! Help me get Ziva on her feet!" Turning away from the window, his partner bent quickly to pick up Salim's handgun as he rushed to Tony's side a second time. "Quick, grab her other side!" Tony shouted over the hailstorm around them. As her full weight settled on their shoulders, Tony realized just how featherlight she had become. She was so weakened and almost bare in a way as her arms hung limp over her old partners' strong and willing shoulders. The shoulders' of the men she had abandoned. But they were there, holding her up, helping her with the weight that she could not bear. _We are here_, Tony thought as he looked at her sunken face. He looked at McGee as he nodded to him. _We are both here to share this burden, to carry her out._ They both took strength from this shared glance, and Tony hoped that it would somehow transfer itself into Ziva's weakened form, to give her the power she needed as well.

As if his hope had actually manifested, she straightened herself as best as she could and made the first step forward. Taking their cue, Tony and McGee began to walk with her. Like an awkward six-legged race team, they all hurried for the only door, stepping over the body of the second gunman. As they left the dark room, the sounds of fighting outside continued and became more urgent. As the three stumbled though the narrow passage, a third gunman sprang up at the bend in the hallway.

Frightened, Tony thought quickly of the gun in McGee's hand. Before he could formulate another thought, the man was struck down by two shots. Utterly surprised yet relieved at the same time, the team/not-team continued as they hit the bend where they stopped, astonished and elated by the sight at the end of the next passage. There, covered in full military gear, sniper rifle in hand, stood the man that had saved their lives three times in the last two minutes. Their boss, their fearless leader, their relief and hope.

As if in response to their silent stares, the fighting and violence in that small world around them began to abate. Ironically, it was the functional mute that broke the silence as he said simply, "Let's go home."

* * *

A half hour later, the battle was all but finished. The screams had ended, the whine of bullets could only be heard in the far-off distance as a group of soldiers tracked the few remaining terrorists as they fled. To Tony, the world seemed eerily quiet after the events of the last hour. The only sounds in the immediate area being the crackle of radios, the distant barkings of a commanding officer coordinating a perimeter, and the soft hiss of sand as it blew across the desert floor.

Tony turned his attention to his silent partners sitting in the open door of a helicopter, a corpsman tending to some of their more serious wounds. For his troubles, McGee earned a good number of scrapes and bruises and a rather nasty cut near his right temple. But Tony knew this was nothing. His partner was strong; he had proven at least that much over the past few months and especially in the past few hours.

Ziva may be another story. He knew her body was weakened from dehydration and lack of nutrition, but he also knew her most serious wounds could not be mended by the corpsman at her side. He stared at her once battle-ready face, now so weary and more exhausted than he had ever seen. Now that he had time to actually think, he appreciated the gravity of how much her demeanor had changed. Her eyes were downcast, her shoulders slumped, defeat showing in every muscle of her body. He did not like this, this new and meek Ziva. Yet at the same time, he felt an almost intoxicating relief spread through him. _But she is alive. Just as we are here, she is here. Breathing. Right in front of us. She is safe. _As if hearing his thoughts, Ziva lifted her heavy eyes and looked into his. He stared back, offered one of his trademark grins, and earned a small smile in return. Her smile reached her eyes, at least just a little bit. That was all Tony could ask for. It was almost nothing, but it was a start.

Turning away, Tony caught Gibbs' eye, gave him a nod, and walked back to the building in which they were held. The area had long since been cleared of any enemy combatants, so Tony felt no qualms about walking into that oppressing dark again. He walked down the passage, stepping over the body of Gibbs' last victim. Now, however, this man was no longer armed, his weapon removed despite his obvious state. Tony turned the corner and saw the cell at the end, a second victim adorning the floor at its entrance. He stepped over the man, and stared silently at the suffocating space. There, by the two chairs in which they were bound, lay the body of Salim. Tony slowly walked up to him and looked into his dead black eyes as Ziva had done not a half hour earlier.

He felt nothing at first, but as he continued to stare, anger and adrenaline began to seethe through his veins. Losing momentary control, he aimed a kick at Salim's abdomen and one at his face. Abruptly, he stopped himself. No. He could not take his anger out on a dead man. He may have been truly despicable in life, but no one deserved defilement after death. Gibbs saw to it that he got what he deserved, so Tony chanted Rule #11 to himself instead: When the job is done, walk away.

At that, he turned his attention to the rest of the room. As he surveyed, his eyes caught a glare of light off metal not feet from where McGee's head had lain earlier. He walked over, knelt down, and picked up his NCIS badge. It was dusty from its time on the earthen floor, so he wiped it clean with his thumb.

As he continued to stare at the proof of his title, Tony saw yet another shimmer of light just beyond the field of his hands. Tentatively, he reached out and grasped a thin and delicate chain half-buried in the dirt. He held it in front of his face, shaking and blowing the dust from it. To his astonishment, he found he was holding Ziva's Star of David necklace. He hadn't noticed she was missing it. As he laid it bare in his hands, he thought of her without this token around her neck. Like the look he witnessed on her face earlier, this image did not fit. A Ziva without this on her at all times? It was just wrong and alien to him.

He clasped the necklace in both hands and held it to his chest, closing his eyes while still kneeling in the dirt with his head bowed. To an onlooker, it might appear that he was praying. And maybe he was, in a way. For the first time since the black bag was pulled from Ziva's head, Tony truly let relief wash over him. She was alive! After months of thinking she was dead, lost from them forever, she was a mere hundred yards from him, a small distance compared to the void that separated them before. As he continued to hug her necklace to him, he thought of what it had cost them, cost _her_. For what? For her country? For Mossad? For her father? Was any of that worth the pain and suffering Salim put her through? He wasn't sure. To him? No. But to her? He just couldn't answer that question for her.

Still kneeling, eyes closed and breathing slow and deep, he became aware of someone else's presence in the room. He continued his silent thoughts for about a minute or so before he felt a strong hand firmly, yet gently, grasp his shoulder. Tony finally opened his green eyes and looked up into Gibbs' blue ones. He had to fight back a smile as he held in his hands a brew of coffee in a tin canteen cup. Even in a desert in the middle of nowhere, he still managed to sniff some out. Tony looked at his own hands and noticed that he had gripped the necklace so tightly, the points of the Star had left punctured indents in his palms. The skin began to spring back as he simply laid it in his hands once again.

Then he thought, _Should I give this back to Ziva? _The more he thought, the more he was, yet again, unsure. Yes, it was hers. Yes, it represented a part of her. But what would it represent for her now? A broken memento of her pain? Of her hopelessness and loneliness? He did not want to see those thoughts and feelings creep into her eyes again. Instead, he thought of an alternative.

As Gibbs watched, Tony slipped the golden necklace behind the steel of his badge, pinning it there, hidden from sight. He wasn't sure whether he would ever give this back to her, whether it would be _right_ to give it back to her. But for now, it would remain _his_ mangled reminder. It will represent for him the hard lessons learned and the pain suffered by all of them. Staring at his badge, now holding a tiny secret, he vowed that he would never allow another member of his team to suffer like this ever again. He knew it was an almost unattainable promise, considering their line of work, but he pledged just the same.

As he stood up, slipping his badge into his pocket, he turned to face his boss. They stared briefly at each other, understanding flowing between them. Then Gibbs gave him a knowing smile, turned around, and headed for the door sipping his coffee as he went. Tony took one more glance around the cell, then followed his leader out into the sunlight once again.

**A/N--As this is the very first fanfic I've ever written, I would love to hear reviews, feedback, and criticism. Depending on what I hear, I may or may not follow this story up with something else. Until then, happy reading :)**


End file.
